Sometimes, Death is not the End
by Doshlover234
Summary: In a land beset by a course of undeath, never-ending demise and suffering, until one loses themselves, a man has risen. He knows little, only his mission. Thoughts are returning to his mind, memories of a better time. Can he remember what is happening in this cursed land, that makes it truly cursed?
1. Cloudy Judgement

He stood up. He stared blankly into the bonfire's gently whisping and curving flames as they traveled from the bones of undead, up the longsword, and into the sky. The unfortunate undead, a barer of the Darksign, walked to the fire and sat down. An encompassing orange fog covered the entire world, it seemed to him, and then dissipated just as quickly as it had appeared. He looked down at himself.

He wore a helm of steel, one which he gained after a long-time friend went hollow. Driven mad by his desire to find his "sun", he was infested by a maggot, and so he thought his quest was finally over. He has laid him to rest swiftly, not wanting to prolong the dull pain brewing inside his chest. On his torso he wore a charred chestplate, one that had seen Hell's fires and had come back. His legs were clad in a similar armor, only they were made of tinted black iron and were much heavier. His hands were covered by leather gloves, which he gathered from a corpse deep within the catacombs. His right hand contained a Greatsword, one that had been touched by the purest form of darkness, and now drew its power not from the wielder's strength, but from their humanity. His left arm carried a shield, painted red for blood and enchanted with the power of fire. The undead did not know why, but this piece in particular fascinated him. Whenever he held it, it felt as though his blood became cleaner, thinner, and flowed smoothly throughout his body, like he could filter out any toxins the world could throw at him.

"Having trouble? It's to be expected, in a land like this." A somber voice, culled of its passion by something or another, spoke to him from behind. This man, the iron-clad warrior had decided, was not worth his time. He stood up and walked away silently, as he had done so many times before.

The man walked back towards a collapsed church, only pillars and broken stairways remaining, with a faded statue in the back. He kicked Frampt, a large serpent who was guiding him on his journey, awake. He yawned and shook his head, claiming he was not "a withering old snake." The undead pointed into the pit from which the creature appeared from, and the serpent took him in his mouth and carried him below.

On the short trip, the undead thought. It was rare he got time to think, as nothing ever seemed to stay dead, no matter how many times he slew it. They were like him in a way, he said to himself. Before long, his mind floated back to his biggest question, "What is my name?" The question plagued him, as everyone he met knew him only as friend, or some other pet name they had come up with. He wanted a name, something to attach a sense of self to. Yet he couldn't find one, none would come to his mind. The mouth of the serpent opened and spat him out, onto the floor of Firelink Altar.

He walked to the Lordvessel, a large bowl that he was using to break the seal to Gwyn, the God of Sunlight, and succeed him in sustaining the Age of Fire, a time when men could die peacefully, of happiness and prosperity, and most importantly, hope. He stood on the far side, away from the vessel, and stared at the stones that lined the door. He recently noticed etchings within the stone, of words and pictures alike. He felt there was something he wanted in them, something his heart and mind needed to cling onto and not let go. He scanned over them a short while.

It was then, that his heart felt lighter, if only for a moment, about his situation. He had found what he was looking for. In his mind he said to himself, "I...am Ecklon."


	2. The Epiphany

With renewed vigor, Ecklon stepped over to the Lordvessel and filled his estus flask with its energy. Estus was always a welcome thing, a quick and easy to gather healing agent during a fight. He returned to Frampt and pointed up, and was subsequently eaten by Frampt and brought back to the destroyed church.

Frampt spat him out onto the stone floor and Ecklon landed steadily on his feet. Ecklon knew what he had to do, he had to destroy the bearers of the Lord Souls to renew the Age of Fire. He could bring all this suffering to an end. The undead man set out, his first target already made up in his mind.

The Bed of Chaos.

He sat down, the familiar orange essence filling the room and vanishing once again. He brought out his grinding stone from his satchel and started to repair his equipment. This was another time that he let his mind wander, to explore with abandon. His first thought about his surroundings, taking them in.

He was in a green tinted room, the walls covered in moss, dust, scorch marks, but overwhelmingly cocoons of spider silk. He turned his head to his left, and saw the Fire Keeper. A beautiful woman, who looked so young, but had the look and smell of death all around her. Her lower body was a white spider, matching both her deathly pale skin and her hair. He, at one point, felt he wanted to give her something, anything, to ease the pain. Her servant, a man with spider eggs piled in his back, named Eingyi, had told him of her sacrifice. She had attempted to cure residents of the hellhole known as Blighttown by taking the dreadful sickness they had into her own body. This had helped so many, but she herself went blind and was unable to move from the pain. Still, as a Fire Keeper, she found herself unable to die by natural causes, and lives in hopeless pain daily. His appearance, no matter how revolting it is, did not stop him from liking the kind hearted fellow.

Ecklon put his sword and shield on the ground beside himself, fully repaired, and took off his armor. Left in nothing but a loin-cloth, and repairing his armor always put him in a state of fear. No defense and uncertainty of being able to reach his armaments in time put him on edge. Still, it was a necessary risk.

Ecklon's mind wandered again as he beat out the dents and reforged scratches on the iron helm he wore practically everywhere. He thought about his new identity, a foundation on which he could build a sense of self, and to the challenges lying in wait. His head jolted up, and it was then he realized something he never thought of. "How do I know there will be demons on the way to the Bed of Chaos?" he thought. "How do I know the creature's name?" He began to panic silently within his mind, wondering if everything he'd been doing up until now was real, or he was imagining all of this. As if triggered by the frantic thoughts in his mind, he suddenly got a jolt of pain in his temples, clouding up his thoughts and losing them to the pain. The pain however, had brought him back to reality, and he heard something coming around the corner.


	3. A Strange Beast

Sensing there was little time before the beast found him, Ecklon grabbed his sword and shield. Before he had finished looping his arm through the shield, the beast showed itself. It was unlike anything he had seen before.

The creature looked to be shorter than himself, wearing a dress that was covered in the toxic sludge that polluted the bottom of Blighttown. It's face was of a human woman, soft and delicate, with several cuts and obvious mosquito bites. Ecklon hesitated. This didn't feel the same as everything else he had met, it felt as if it didn't belong here. Ecklon noticed what he was calling the frail thing, and corrected himself by saying in his mind she was a woman. Still, he took caution as he approached.

The woman turned her head and looked up at the iron-clad warrior. She collapsed onto the floor behind her, unable to run in her dress, bogged down by deadly sewage. He got to her hands and knees and stood up, then turned and put out her fists in preparation. Ecklon steadily approached, unable to comprehend why it... _she..._ was running from him. The woman attempted to punch him, but on instinct he rolled under her strike and into her, knocking her down again. He dropped his sword and used the newly free hand to grab her left wrist. He gripped it tightly as his shield arm came down onto her other wrist, preventing her from getting up or fighting back.

The woman underneath thrashed violently for a few seconds before calming down and going still. Ecklon mentally sighed, in part that this fight was easier than most, and in part from disappointment over potential loot. "What am I thinking!? I shouldn't be picturing killing a poor weak creature." he thought to himself brashly, continuing to hold her wrists with more force than necessary. The woman, in pain from the poison, the crushing force on her arms, and in utter despair, began to weep onto her sullied garments. The warrior above her was going to end her life, she knew it. The helmed head, face obscured by iron and darkness, looked at her slowly, and cocked itself.

Ecklon, feeling an emotion for the first time since the passing of his friend, took pity on the poor girl. He reached into his satchel, and retrieved a purple moss clump, which had been buried under his homeward bones and prism stones. He put a knee onto her abdomen to prevent her from moving as he used his right hand to open her mouth, and the left to push the moss into it. The woman chewed and swallowed the moss, noting it's tangy taste and crisp texture, not unlike a sun-dried prune, in an attempt to appease her supposed executioner. Nearly instantaneously, the toxins she could feel ravaging her body not a moment ago ceased. The moss, she presumed, held some healing properties.

She sat up with a start, coughing from eating the moss too quickly. This, coupled with the heavy knee upon her stomach, made it even harder to cough. Ecklon removed his knee and stood up again, seemingly towering over the girl he had saved. He pondered what her name was and why she was here stoically. The girl, having recovered from her coughing fit, stood up as well. Ecklon's previous thought had been correct. The woman was at least six inches shorter than himself, although he knew not his own height to give a comparison. He calmly walked over to her and put a hand around her. The woman was too weak from her previous ailment and adrenaline dissipating to resist. He practically carried her over to the bonfire, which prompted a raised eyebrow from Eingyi. He laid her up against a wall near the flames, both to soothe and warm her body from the cold which had overcome her being. The warrior reached into his satchel once more and brought forth a talisman, one that was bright as silver and light as a bird's feather. He commanded a prayer silently, and a ring of symbols surrounded the girl. Strings of light came down and wrapped themselves around her body for a moment or two, then vanished. The woman, however, had already passed out from exhaustion. Ecklon decided to rest by the bonfire himself, more out of curiosity than tiredness that never came.


	4. A Hollow Feeling

Ecklon had been sitting for a long time. At least, it felt like a long time. It could have been minutes or years to him. Time meant nothing to this land, where dimensions collide and long dead heroes return to fight alongside you. Time had become as irrelevant to Ecklon as a stone to water, an obstacle blocking it's endless march. The undead's mind had not been wandering, as it often did in downtimes. Rather, it was blank, no thoughts, no emotions. It was as if his will to keep going was fading away, something was drawing him in, to keep him in this room. The undead could feel his skin tighten around his body, instead of sagging ever so slightly as it had done since he was locked in the Asylum, far to the North.

Ecklon shuddered. His first encounter with the demon, who guarded the exit to the prison, had been a harrowing experience. He had died twice trying to slice at it's thighs with his broken sword hilt, and after finding a side exit and gathering some weaponry, a mace and a shield made of wood, he had slain it.

He shook his head slowly, and stood up from the fire. He peered over to the woman, who appears to still be unconscious. Something inside of him dropped, he had to get away from here. It would be the Hollowing of him if he did not. He picked up his greatsword, the metal darkening upon his touch, drawing power from his humanity. He marched out of the Fair Lady's chamber and into a large hole in the wall outside, leading him to a place that he always enjoyed, for some unknown reason to him.

This place. Deep underground, with tree roots curling and twisting throughout the dilapidated ruins of what appeared to be a great city. The walls leaked magma from deep inside the earth, and below, at the end of a ramp of cooled molten rock, was a pool of ever-stretching lava and the silhouettes of demons. Demons that had the head of a ram's skull and the body of a half-man, half-ape. They wielded Greataxes, which were tainted by the demonic energy that led to their creation.

Ecklon lit the bonfire, which was laid out conveniently at the entrance to this place. He looked to his right, and saw a gate of white fog and a pathway over the molten earth below. He slid down the side of the raised ramp, and landed on a stretch below, too hard for his liking. He stood up straight with a sharp pain in his legs, then proceeded along the top of a pillar to the shrouded path. As he walked, he was hit by something. Some sense of remembrance, like he had been here before. He looked behind himself to see if anything was causing this, and saw a red form rushing at him. He spun around and brought up his shield.

"An Invader." Ecklon thought. These guys popped in from time to time. Spirits from another time, who were set on killing him. He didn't know quite what for, as he had not tried to invade others before, believing he was above such brutish behavior. He had defeated a few of these phantoms before, and he knew they dropped humanity as they vanished, and he was always yearning for humanity. The invader rolled away from him, and brought out a staff. The foul man conjured four blue orbs, which hovered over his head. Ecklon rushed at the intruder, which caused the orbs to launch themselves at him. Two hit him directly, knocking him to the ground as the other two flew overhead and into the wall behind him. Ecklon got up, blood trickling down and over his lips, and ran at the invader again. The invader brought up it's shield, but the shield was not sturdy enough to take the powerful blows from his sword. He got pushed back again and again with each swing, until the phantom made its first and last mistake. It brought down it's shield and attempted to parry Ecklon's attack, but it did so too early. The blade went right through him, severing his upper and lower torso. The phantom crumpled to the ground, defeated, as it faded away.

Ecklon, breathing heavily, brought his sword back to it's resting place upon his shoulder. In the back of his mind, he wondered what could drive someone to kill another for a tiny shard. He reached out into the remaining power of the dark spirit, and felt it travel into his body and soul. The feeling of humanity further filled the empty void that was his body. When he stood back up from gathering the energy of the spirit, he saw a shape moving towards him. It was difficult to make out immediately, the fog of war still clouding his vision, but shortly it became clear that this was the woman he had saved earlier. Her dress, still caked with muck, was a dead giveaway. She approached him, some hesitation with each step, until she stood before him, on top of the pillar he was traversing. She looked to where she thought his eyes would be and said with a meek voice. "Why did you leave me?"


	5. A Spark and Molten Rock

Ecklon stood, dazed at the words that both comforted him and ripped through him like a spear. His lips were dry, cracked, and wore a thick layer of dust from disuse. His vocal cords seemed to be nothing but putty, unable to retain a shape long enough to make any coherent sounds. It was as if he had forgotten how to talk completely. Indeed, within his limited memories, he could not recall his own voice. The woman hadn't looked away from his helmet since she asked her question. "Why did you leave me?!" she asked question, with more than a tint of anger flooding into her tone. Ecklon's mind clouded, more densely than he thought possible. It felt as if he would go insane within the tunnel vision that was being forced upon his consciousness. The undead warrior, desperate to make the woman be quiet, or leave, or do anything but stare at him caused him to act on impulse. His hand moved, as if he were watching this happen to someone else, and he placed it on the strange woman's head. The woman gasped at the sudden reaction and the unexpected physical contact. She looked down at her own feet, the leather-bound hand still resting on her head, and sulked.

Ecklon, who's panic was clearing as quickly as the fog thinned out around his perception, knew of nothing more he could do for the woman. He removed his hand and turned to walk away, return to his original intention of destroying the demon that flooded the plateau below in magma. He jogged, as he often did, towards the fog gate, his heavy armor clunking with each step. He placed his hand into the fog and pushed himself through, the sound of rushing wind moving around and behind him. For some reason, he felt as if he was safe from all that was outside. It was a feeling of knowing, yet once again how he knew remained a mystery to himself.

Just as he took a step further, he once again heard the rushing sound of wind moving behind him, he turned in shock as his delusion of safety crumpled away like paper. He beheld the woman from before, who had follow him into this dangerous area. She approached his, as she had done only a moment ago on the pillar. She said meekly, as if the sound of her voice would drive the man before her into a fury, "My name is… H-Heinrich. What's y-yours?" The figure in armor seemed to be confused by her question, his head moving from one side to another and his fingers tapped rapidly on the hilt of his greatsword. After seemingly great deliberation, the figure simply shook his head and turned away, opting to not let "Heinrich" waste anymore time.

He stomped towards the great beast, a demon that was nothing but lava and rock. Nine tentacles lined his back in an uneven growth pattern, and six golden eyes stared blankly at an enclave within the wall in front of him. Heinrich, however, had followed closely behind him, both out of curiosity and fear. When he saw the armored figure, her eyes leaped from his back to the gargantuan figure towering above them both. The warrior marched forward, undeterred, as she trailed behind him closely.


	6. First Gulp of Lordran by a Pure Maiden

The pair walked on. The man in front, seemingly made of steel armor and will, moved quickly and steadily, standing straight up ready for any challenge that presents itself. The woman behind, scurrying hurriedly to keep up with her supposed champion in this world of darkness and death. The lava demon, it's eyes still locked onto what was revealed to be the corpse of a forgotten figure, made no indication of knowing the duo existed. It simply stared blankly into the distance, as if seeing the corpse and it's altar gave him visions of an easier time. The two approached the body, when the undead noticed what the corpse was laid to rest in.

The robes were scorched black, through a combination of faded dye and the smoke, ash, and fire that made up this forsaken land. It was hemmed in gold, the dimly shimmering material wrapping around the entire figure as if it was a halo of protection. The undead thought to himself that perhaps that is exactly what it was meant to represent. He removed the hood from the body. The eyes were long gone, leaving deep holes in their place. The nose had collapsed inward, and the teeth were exposed, left to their own devices without lips, tongue, or gums. The undead placed the hood into his carrying satchel, enchanted with a similar bottomless ability to a Bottomless Box. As he did so, he noticed Heinrich staring in wonder at his unrelenting courage, and the demon., which had finally shown signs of awareness to the two.

The demon has stretched upwards, and Ecklon grabbed his new and unwieldy companion's arm and dragged her to a more open piece of land. He pushed her into a tunnel leading around and away as he readied himself. Placing his enchanted shield on his back, he took out a talisman, knelled down, and said a silent prayer. A golden aura emanated from him for only a moment, then the warrior stood back up and put it on his belt loop as the demon ripped an arm free from his chest. The ungodly horror walked across the lava below and stood directly in front of Ecklon. They stared at each other, a calm before the storm. The undead could sense a deep hatred radiating from the creature as it used a tendril from its back to attack.

Heinrich watched the preparation of the knight in iron from around the corner. Her head peeking out only enough not to obscure her view, she watched as it used a miracle on itself, and the brief meeting of the adversaries' eyes as the demon struck down onto the rock as the warrior ran to the side. He turned on his heels after the blow had missed and brought his sword down into the tendril, and followed up with two more blows before the demon retracted his body. The damnable thing used its freshly freed arm to splash magma up onto her hero. The substance connected, she saw him stagger as the heat from his armor burned his flesh underneath. The man had no time to react as the creature launched a column of fire directly into his, searing his entire body. She herself had seen it coming long before the warrior, and had ducked under an overhanging arch for shelter. In fear, she stayed there, her knees up to her forehead and eyes streaming.

Ecklon forced himself back up, the grip of death close at hand, once again ready to greet him and return him to the magical bonfire he last rested at. He grasped his flask, brightly shining with the essence of the bonfire itself, brimming with the power to revive the Undead. He greedily drank two gulps and rolled away from another tendril being brought down onto the platform below him. He returned his Estus Flask to it's usual spot, front and center of his left side for quick access, as he readied his sword again for the next attack. The monster swept a tendril across the ground, and Ecklon attempted to block what he could with his mighty blade. The blow knocked him once more to the ground, but it little harm thanks to the broad and thick metal of the Greatsword, enhanced by the power of his humanity. He brought himself back up as the beast brought his tendril to his freshly freed arm, and coated it in fire. He brought it once more into the platform, which Ecklon easily dodged. He slammed his blade into the tough hide of the creature four times, the wounds visibly dripping the same molten rock that poured from his existing sores. As the demon removed his appendage again, Ecklon brought forth his talisman. He conjured with it a brilliant bolt of light, seeming to shine as brightly as the sun once did during the Age of Fire. He flung it at the beast, striking its eyes with powerful electricity. The creature covered its eyes with a tendril before crumbling into the lava pit below.

Ecklon looked back, as a humanity shard and homeward bone materialized at his feet. He placed them into his satchel and moved to where he had made the maiden go. He found her swiftly, still shaking and sobbing quietly underneath her breath. She looked up at him, unable to believe he was alive. The victorious hero offered his hand to her, and as she took it brought her to her feet. The two began the trek back to the ramp leading to the now cooled, for the most part, magma pool. The iron-clad undead in front, bold and unafraid. The maiden close behind, not wanting to be lost to this world alone.


	7. Angels and Demons

The undead warrior retrieved a pair of binoculars from his satchel and looked out onto the flesh plateau. The young maiden who had taken to him sat down, thankful for a chance to rest. She wiped her brow of sweat, which had been collecting above her eyebrows since entering this little piece of hell itself.

As the undead scanned the area, he took note of two main paths. One went straight ahead, into a large herd of Taurus Demons, who appeared to be watching over a corpse lying in a puddle of remaining magma. The other went hard right, past a Capra Demon onto the ledge of a cliff. Ecklon opted to head towards the cliff, as fighting demons for the chance to die in lava wasn't very appealing.

Ecklon put away his binoculars and motioned for his burdensome companion to get up and continue onwards. Heinrich was hot and tired from the escalation of events up to now, from poisonous bogs to columns of fire and brimstone. She pushed herself up like trying to go against stone against her back and followed, once again, in the undead executioner's footsteps.

The heat licked at the pair, slowly becoming more than just a condition to be weathered. Ecklon brutalized the lesser Capra Demon, easily dodging to the sides of it's lunging attack and stumbling it into the chasm with a low blow by his Greatsword. The pair pushed forward, through another hostile phantom and several more lesser demons, until they came upon a small bonfire hidden below and behind the staircase heading down into a large cave.

"Oh, thank the Gods." Heinrich said, breaking the peaceful background noise of churning magma and clanging steel from the undead's armor. She was pouring with sweat, so much in fact, that she was reminded of melting ice cream. How she longed for the cold, sweet drippings of vanilla sliding down the back of her voice, kissing and caressing her tongue with it's flavor.

The undead pushed her back, nearly knocking her onto her rear. She was about to retort his lack of common courtesy, when she saw the wall to their right crumble and a large centipede creature emerged. She scurried away and stood back up, watching as the undead prepared to destroy the insect, as he had to many before.

Ecklon pushed Heinrich back, on an impulse that could only be trained from having it done many times before, as the demon insect spurred forth from the wall. He put his trusty blade away, and brought from the depths of his pack and large scythe, one only used for carving up fields prior to falling into the hands of Ecklon. The insect curved itself to face Ecklon as he cast a miracle onto the weapon. It crackled with the new-found power of electricity, and so Ecklon brought it high into the air and brought it down, over and over, into the insects neck. It coughed up acid which corroded the cracked and broken stone beneath, until the head was lopped off and kicked into the pit below. The rest of the corpse vanished in a puff of smoke, and the bonfire it had been guarding lit it's small flame, a fitting welcoming committee for the mismatched duo.

The undead crouched down next to the tiny flame, while Heinrich sat on the far wall, as far away from the sources of heat as possible. The orange magic covered the entire area as far as they could see, then faded once more. Heinrich groaned audibly both in exhaustion and frustration as she watched the undead throw something tiny, dark, and pulsing into the flames. They grew higher, licking the end of the longsword that was placed within each one, stronger for Ecklon's uses of Estus and solice.

"Finally, a respite." Ecklon's mind spoke to itself. The glow of the flames, the gentle flowing movements they made always cleared his head. They only helped a little though. It always drained Ecklon to sacrifice his humanity, both emotionally and physically. It was as if each time he did so, a small bit of himself was lost behind the ever expanding gray fog clouding his mind. Ecklon jumped back to what had just transpired a moment ago. How did he know what was going to happen? Why did the insect act so… unfamiliar. He puzzled over these two questions, the fog clearing enough for him to see his past.

It was the exact same thing, over and over again. Each time had been different, with old armor, weapons, techniques. The only thing in his memory that changed was himself. He couldn't understand how that could occur, but the fog swooped in and shoved him away from what felt like his past lives. He couldn't remember what was happening anymore. Something was hiding his own past from him. In a nervous jitter, he jumped up and readied his empty hands at the sound of rustling cloth, only to find Heinrich tossing her dress into a corner, leaving her with a thin breastplate and thigh-length undergarments. Ecklon jerked his head back to the bonfire, imaging Heinrich's face going red with embarrassment. She spoke to him, loud and quite obviously flustered, that "the heat was unbearable" for her, and not to look at her. She then suggested they both take a break, to which Ecklon silently agreed with a soft nod of his head. He laid himself down next to the bonfire and closed his restless eyes, and drifted away from his consciousness for the first time in who knew how long.


	8. A Land of Time

Ecklon found himself within the fog of his mind. He was no longer confined to his survival, or his mission. He felt as if he were in another world entirely. He could see the interior of a dainty home. It was made of stone and thatched roofing, with wooden furniture lining the rooms, made by thin walls of branches and animal hide. Inside was a woman, nursing her son in a homemade rocking chair. Two men were sitting at the table in the kitchen, talking over a hand of cards and a pouch of coins. The far man, who was facing Ecklon, was doing something he had not seen in what seemed like a millennium.

He was smiling. An act that Ecklon himself had forgotten how to do. He tried to imitate the man's expression, but was met only with a forceful cringe. His journey, the things he had seen, seemed to have worn his emotions down to no return, save for the rare burst over a disastrous occurrence. His ears pricked up at the sound of the woman, her voice sweet and smooth like caramel. She called out to the man with his back to Ecklon. "Dear, please take your son. He's fallen asleep." The man stood up with a chuckle, putting his hand on the table face down, and went to the woman. He picked up the child in his arms and cradled the sleeping babe.

In a flash, the scene of heartwarming content and satisfaction was swept away by a torrent. It overtook Ecklon, coming straight from the impenetrable walls of the fog. It was frigid and hard, as if he had been enveloped by a glacier. Ecklon tried to get out of the embrace of this entity, but no matter where he tried to move, the thing moved with him, dragging him back into itself. The cold was putting Ecklon into a state of hypothermia. He couldn't move his legs anymore, the cold effectively shutting down the nerves, and collapsed into the flood. He closed his eyes again, full well expecting himself to die right there and then, with no hope of revival.


	9. Siege of Six Legs

Ecklon shot up with a gasp, which surprised both his companion and himself. In that moment, he had felt human again. It was a strange feeling. It was a foreign mix of courage, bliss, and worry. Most of all though, the strangest part was he felt _filled._ He had never felt as content with his place as he had in that single moment. Heinrich had changed back into her robes while he slept, indicating she had been up for some time before the not-so-hollow warrior's rude awakening. Heinrich crawled over to him on hands and knees and put a hand on the undead's forehead, and asked in a motherly tone "Are you okay, knight?" Ecklon, still shaken both figuratively and literally, gave a quick brush of his hand to show he did not need her help. She pulled her hand back with a worrisome expression decorating her face, and stood up in front of the prideful man. Ecklon too rose from the ground, grabbing his tools of trade and feeling their power in his hands as he moved towards the staircase down.

Slicing through the demonic statues and creatures guarding the entrance to what appeared to be a shrine, in a better time to a goddess of healing, or the god of victory and protection. The engravings were too soiled by soot and pieces had crumbled away, making the original purpose unknown. Heinrich had gotten somewhat more confident, wandering farther away from the steel-clad paladin, peeking over the edges of cliffs and running her hands along the corpses of the fallen demons, freshly slain with the corrupted blade of Ecklon. As Ecklon beckoned Heinrich over for the second time, the duo noticed a large hole in the right-hand wall. A root from the ancient and scarred trees twisting down to the bottom of a chasm. Ecklon opted to explore this, as doing so in the past has given him many useful items, including the helm and breastplate he currently wore. Heinrich followed his lead, the two walking down the root to the bottom. They walked along what once could've been a regal hall, now sliced with roots and broken stones. After a short walk, they came to a large door with no obvious way to open it. Ecklon attempted to use his will to move it, putting his hand out in front of him as if commanded the stone slabs to move of their own accord. Alas, the stones either didn't listen or weren't given the proper address of their owner. Powerful mages liked to enchant doors with their signatures. Heinrich screamed harshly from behind, the undead turning to find a large, red, and spiny insect latched onto his companion's head. It appeared to be trying to eat her skull, and Heinrich was desperately trying to pull the bug off. More of these bugs came out of smaller holes in the walls, likely tunnels made by them, and began to encircle the two. Ecklon rushed to her side and helped to rip the oversized flea from his partner's head. Throwing it to the side, it flailed it's legs in frustration. The pair ran back up the twisted root to the entrance of the temple. The fog gate still stood as it had before, looming over them and tempting the two to face whatever was inside. Ecklon and Heinrich looked behind them, and shock covered their faces.

The insects were dashing up the walls in an attempt to reach them. Ecklon and Heinrich were so afraid that they couldn't move. The amount of bugs were impossible to kill alone, and Heinrich would likely be eaten long before the man himself fell to the onslaught of bodies. The ground began to shake furiously, and out of the side of the ground they stood up, several hellish centipede's emerged. They began to devour the other insects as they climbed, but the centipedes only slowed down their assault. More of the things were crawling up the staircase to the two. Surrounded on all sides by evil insects, they two threw themselves through the fog wall, hoping it was simply a false blockade.


End file.
